


Beyond The Sea

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Short, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-23
Updated: 2003-09-23
Packaged: 2019-04-27 05:37:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14418801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: Seeking solid land in a liquid world.





	Beyond The Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

Beyond The Sea

## Beyond The Sea

### by annaK

Title: Beyond The Sea  
Author: annaK  
Rating: PG-13  
Classification: V, A, MSR  
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.  
Spoilers: This fills in some missing scenes for Three Words. Minor spoilers for Milagro, Within, Per Manum, DeadAlive and Three Words.   
Archive: I'll do Gossamer and Ephemeral. Anywhere else, just let me know.   
Summary: Seeking solid land in a liquid world. 

Many thanks to Foxxy, xdks and Elizabeth. 

  
Beyond The Sea by annaK  


It is the old song of her parents, a rich lullaby, mournful yet liberating, heartbreaking yet true. Beyond the sea she will find him. 

Wave after wave of his being enters her soul, filling all the empty spaces with a dusting of hope and a handful of soil. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, he binds himself around her, her stomach swelling with the child that is born out of the earth, raised from the darkness in a shimmering of light. 

New life will set her free. 

"Anybody miss me?" 

The night is dark yet the heavens rise, a warrior among men stepping forth from the ruins to embrace his future; their future. 

A son of a king, a prince of thieves, he holds her, clammy, weakened flesh and bone moulding itself around her like the sunlight has touched her bare skin in early morning welcome a thousand times before. 

From beyond the seas of time he has come forward, come back; rescued her and the lights that shone within; the lights that, like candles, had been fading away, extinguished by the hands of time and loss. 

A throaty chuckle and a firmer hold are his answers, tears bathing him, washing away the months past and the wounds that will never heal with a secret balm. 

Through the waves, he has come home. 

Like an ethereal presence she has remained at his side, child within kicking with joy over the return of his father from the murky depths that had held him beneath the surface with salty fingers, Neptune's firm hands drowning his senses, suffocating him in a tide of regrets. 

Bag in hand, they are home. The ship is built and like Noah they step aboard, enjoying the stability of a world without ripples, a safe haven from the rivers of uncertainty that remain not far beneath their feet. 

"Missing a Molly." 

_The fish couldn't swim, Mulder. You did. You can._

The silence is oppressive. She has no words, only feelings, her wounds sutured together but threatening to burst the ties, to break open, leaving her broken and bleeding on his floor. She's been here before, in these rooms, a vision holding her heart as blood soaked her chest. A character from a novel, an apparition, and then, later, her own hand, squeezing the life out of the fragile organ as she soaked the wooden tiles in a flood of mourning for her lost lover. 

Yes, she has been here before. This time, the ground is steadier, the tide has receded. 

"My prayers have been answered." 

"In more ways than one." 

The hollowness in his eyes stuns her. Like a deer in headlights she is frozen to the spot, her breathing steady as the room turns liquid; the tears in her eyes, the waters in her womb. The tides are washing her away and he stands, aloof, mocking her struggle for balance. 

_I can't swim, Mulder._

He asked her to go away, to give him time. 

She's lost too much time already. 

Wordlessly, she walks into his bedroom. Shoes kicked off and clothes peeled away, she awkwardly maneuvers herself onto the mattress, piling pillows around her, building her sand bag barricades, defense from the oncoming flood. 

She would not leave. 

Moonlight painted the room in a mirage of rippling shadows, the golden hue of a street lamp washed away by the blueness of the night. The room was floating, her insides solid and sinking under the weight. Only her child, wrapped in a bubble of water, would rise, featherweight, breaking the surface and gasping for air. Mulder had broken through her womb and gasped for air so long ago, a liquid illusion of son becoming father, a rippling of hope as obtuse as the rippling of shadows across her face and of tears beneath her eyes. 

She was adrift, but, unlike so long ago, Mulder was not holding on, guiding the small boat of her existence safely towards dry land. 

He was too busy drowning. 

The sunrise washed away the night, but not the darkness that had settled around her. Like seaweed, a sense of betrayal clung to her, an oozing monster burning through her skin like the green blood of a child lost so long ago. 

The new child moved happily within her, the weight of his parentage settling at the base of her spine. 

"Morning." 

He was standing in the doorway, haunted eyes and drooping hair. 

"I'm sorry." 

His whispered apology blew across the room in a peaceful breeze, calming the waters and offering her hope. 

As soon as her bloated body would allow, she was by his side, their eyes locked. Melting ice met muddy earth, their blue and hazel orbs liquefied by too many tears. 

The first touch was tentative, her hand floating towards his cheek in slow motion, as if she feared that he was a reflection in a pond, his face bound to ripple and disintegrate with her touch. Finally, skin met skin, a simple gesture solidifying their unsteady world. 

He leaned into her palm, mesmerized by the soft texture against his shadowed face. She was all ivory skin and golden hair, a mermaid rescuing him with a kiss of life. 

He'd missed her. 

Curled in a fetal position, his face was buried in her neck, his breath tickling her flesh in a comforting rhythm. Like survivors of a shipwreck, they clung together, their bed a raft, safety from the shadows below. 

He was staring at her stomach when she awoke. He had always known her body like a map, every contour and blemish accounted for as he learned it with lips and hands. She wondered if, on the atlas of her flesh, her stomach now held the warning: "Here be monsters," to his fearful eyes. 

"How?" 

It was a simple question. She had no answers. 

"Beer and Caddyshack, I think." 

"We did this?" 

"Yeah, I guess we did." 

There was wonder in his voice, but also doubt. A seeker of truth to the end, he would not accept this miracle. It was funny, she used to be the one who needed proof. 

The room was still, the silent air permeated by the sounds of crashing waves in her ears. She was standing on a cliff's edge, the stormy waters below threatening to engulf her. Here, she was safe, but Mulder was quiet, too quiet. 

_Will you catch me if I fall?_

Hands would touch and eyes would meet, but there was a gulf spreading between them. 

Mulder was healing and she had regained her equilibrium, both now steady on their feet, but they were moored on separate islands. 

So much left unsaid, so many demons left to fight. So much struggling against the past and the future. 

Whilst new life blossomed within her every day, petals opening over a small bud of hope, the tendrils of despair and decay continued to lick at her ankles. 

The child was not mentioned aloud, the hurt was not healed. 

_Did he ever want a child?_

She had thought that he had, in the days where they had fought tooth and nail against her body, summoning science to help them win the battle. Now, she wonders if he merely wanted to leave her with something, if redeeming a womb that was condemned to remain barren was his idea of a parting gesture, of a goodbye. 

Six months ago, she had painted the new agent in watercolor, her stare as icy as the liquid which had run in rivulets along his jaw. 

For the first time in years, she didn't _want_ to believe. 

Her head slumped forward in her hands, crimson hair falling across her eyes, she had sat. The stone slab of his headstone stood on its own pedestal, mocking her with its finality. It was her only touchstone. She had hoped that soon, she too would resemble this impostor, becoming cold, hard and unbreakable. 

Now, the pain and disbelief are back, the carefully constructed walls slipping like armor, lying at her feet in a sea of glistening metal and open edges. 

In the murky waters of his mind, he had harbored a beast. 

He had never told her. 

In the past week, he has submerged himself in work. He has come "home," as he likes to put it. 

She wonders if he is on a suicide mission, if the creature that leached off his brain had actually been welcome, a chance of retribution, of escape back to his family and the warm embrace of starlight. 

Tonight was too close. 

Once again they've sailed past the icebergs and are permitted to continue on their journey, but the hazy blur of fear is halting their course. She sees nothing, only the murky daze of illusions. 

She is sinking. 

Once back in the amber glow of her apartment, she recalls her pact, her self imposed mission. She will have her answers. 

Dangling bait on the line works on Mulder for everyone but her. He is inquisitive, fearless, but he knows her, recognizes the danger and passes it by. With Mulder, she must reach into the water and grab a hold of him, slipping and sliding in her hand, until he lies still, willing to listen. 

"Do you want to die?" 

It is to the point and unexpected in the steady land of her apartment, and his expression reflects his surprise. 

"No." 

Short words, the sounds inconsequential as they strive for footing in their new territory. 

"You lied to me." 

"I know." 

"Why?" 

"I couldn't let you watch me die." 

There is nothing more to say. 

Like that first night in his apartment, she seeks the sanctuary of a warm bed, her Ark amidst the heavens' downpour. Like that night, the shadows dance across the walls and ceiling in a surge of indigo ripples as the night passes by behind a shroud of clouds. 

Tonight, though, she flows with the tides, her body warm and free from the burden of her soul. 

Mulder's answer has provided her with a course on which to sail and the oars with which to make the steady progress needed towards the end. 

They are no longer adrift, but rather head with purpose towards the steady shores of home. 

The truth, as he would see it, has set them free. 

He sleeps on the sofa, unwilling to leave the shelter of her home. As dawn creeps in through the blinds of her living room, he feels the light seeping through his skin, the warmth evaporating the pain that has flowed through his body like the blood through his veins. 

He wakes her early, her groggy response being more of surprise than annoyance. She's clearly learned to function in a caffeine deprived body since the creation of this... miracle. 

It is early, not yet five, and the streets remain largely deserted. Ushering her into shoes and a coat over her pajama clad body, he moves her out of the front door and into the street below. The first drops of a summer shower sprinkle down upon them, growing in intensity until the water runs in rivulets along his face and hers, until her hair becomes plastered to her head and her eyes shine up at him with unhindered mirth. 

"I don't want to die. I want a future, I want our future." 

A warm hand on her water chilled stomach and a glassiness in her eyes that has nothing to do with rain is all she can feel. 

"I'm sorry for the past but it's gone. We have hope right here, Scully, and I'll never give up on that. Never." 

Sealing her lips beneath his, he grips on to the small woman in his arms. Bone, flesh and spirit and new life blooming within, he drinks from her mouth. 

Tongues duel and fingers run through sodden hair, scratching, grabbing, claiming. 

As the rain continues its staccato rhythm around them, they stand, steady land beneath their feet and nothing but sand in the distance. The oceans recede, allowing them survival like shells washed up on a beach, left to remain as the waves draw out. 

The rain cleanses their spirits, healing their wounds without the sting of the salt of tears. 

As they break for air, she looks into the eyes of this man, her friend, partner and lover, her past and her future. Through the veil of raindrops that cascade across his face like a waterfall, she sees him emerge from the darkness, breaking the waves and coming back to her from beyond the sea. 

  
End 

Feedback is lovingly received 

<http://www.geocities.com/annak1013/fanficindex>   
  


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